


and then i met you (and the whole world changed)

by birlcholtz (justwhatialwayswanted)



Series: Zimbits Airport AU [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, Jack didn't go to Samwell, M/M, anyway, based on my own experiences flying from san francisco to boston, basically you get delayed all the time it's awful, but everything else is the same I think, chicken nuggets, i did not intend for this to be multichaptered but what can ya do, the Sin Bin(tm), their flight gets delayed for 6 hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9103957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwhatialwayswanted/pseuds/birlcholtz
Summary: Bitty would be much more disappointed in his six-hour delay, but that all changes when he strikes up a conversation with an unfairly attractive man who seems to be on the same flight as him.Prompt by fabbittle on Tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shiptoomuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiptoomuch/gifts).



_ Flight 5696 to Boston delayed 6 hours, _ the sign reads.  _ Departure at 1:15 AM. _

“Now this is just unfair,” Bitty mumbles. He’d raced to the airport and arrived twenty minutes before the plane was supposed to depart, removing his shoes for security with the speed of a jet and hardly even putting them back on properly in his haste to get to his gate. Now he’s got six hours to spare.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice says behind him, and Bitty belatedly realizes he’s been standing in front of the departures sign with a grumpy look on his face for several minutes.

“Oh! Sorry,” he says, moving himself and his suitcase a few steps to the side. “Gosh, I hadn’t even realized I was standing there for so long. Too busy thinking about how I’m gonna get back to school, I guess.”

The (extremely attractive) stranger looks up at the sign and mutters something that’s probably a curse. “Six hours?”

“You flying to Boston too?” Bitty asks. 

“Yeah. I was supposed to fly back with the rest of, um, my group, but I stayed a day extra and. Well.” He nods at the sign. “Surprising that they haven’t just booked us different flights and given us hotel rooms.”

“Guess so.” Bitty extends his hand. “I’m Eric, by the way, but my friends call me Bitty.”

The stranger shakes it. “Jack.”

_ He has extraordinarily blue eyes, _ Bitty notices before mentally brushing that thought away. “So you out here for work?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“No, just visiting some friends.” Ransom’s doing med school in San Francisco, and Holster had gone with him, having already made a sizable amount of money off the stock market and planning to use it as a venture capitalist. “It’s a good thing I planned to come back a few days early, though, because term starts Monday and if I cut it any closer I’d miss practice.” And class, but that’s less critical, as Bitty isn’t expected to captain any of his classes.

“Practice, eh?”

“College hockey, I’m the captain of my team so I kinda have to be there.”

Jack looks a bit more interested. “Which team?”

“Samwell?”

“Oh, I saw some of last year’s games on TV, then. In the Frozen Four.”

“You did?” Bitty has to admit it’s not every day that random people one happens to meet in an airport know anything about NCAA hockey, and even less that those people actually believe that he plays. “That’s amazing! Usually the only people I know who watch those are related to me.”

“I’m actually a pretty big hockey fan,” Jack confesses. “Between me and my friends, we watch the entire NHL season, some of the AHL, and most of the NCAA games. Especially the Frozen Four. You’re captain now? Weren’t there two alternates last year?”

“They were actually who I was visiting here. They both graduated.”

“Oh, cool,” Jack says, and that seems to be when they both run out of things to say, because they stand there for a few moments longer before a woman clears her throat behind them.

“Lord, I am just getting in everyone’s way today,” Bitty says, half to himself and half to Jack, as they move out of the woman’s path to the departures sign.

The corner of Jack’s mouth turns up in an approximation of a smile. “It’s not an issue.”

“Want to find seats at the gate?” Bitty suggests. “We’ll be here so long that there’ll probably be some competition.”

 

They find seats, but Bitty’s right in saying that there are a lot of people who want those seats. Jack asks Bitty to watch his things while he goes to grab some food, and returns with chicken nuggets, fries, and bottles of water for both of them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bitty protests, but half-heartedly. He and Ransom had grabbed scones and lattes before Ransom had a class, but that was four hours ago and his stomach is protesting the lack of dinner.

Jack raises his eyebrows and smiles a bit when Bitty still reaches out for the bag. “I remember being a college student. No money, but always hungry. Especially athletes.”

“You can’t be that much older than me.”

“I’m twenty-seven,” Jack says as he sits down. “But I got my degree not long ago. I took several years off before starting college.”

“Oh, I wish I’d done that.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jack must realize how odd his answer sounds, because he elaborates a bit. “I wasn’t planning to go to college, but I... wasn’t in great shape, and when I got back to a comfortable place it was the best path to take to get back on track.”

“You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to,” Bitty says, because Jack is hunching up a little in his chair, and it’s astonishing how small a man who must be over six feet tall and broader across the shoulders than Bitty’s teammates can look.

He lets out a short, soft laugh, that isn’t because of anything funny. “It’s refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t know the story already, to be honest. Usually when I meet people they’ve already formed their opinions of me and I don’t get to change them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I wasn’t referring to you.” Jack eats another chicken nugget.

Bitty sips his water, but he doesn’t feel like they’re on equal footing, so he says, “I grew up in a small town in the south.” Jack doesn’t say anything, so Bitty continues. “Everyone knew everyone else, and everyone kind of... thought the same way. I met a lot of people who had only heard what other people said about me and didn’t feel like they needed to get to know me because of it. That’s part of the reason why I chose Samwell. It was great to go somewhere where nobody knew a thing about me, like having a blank slate, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s great to be somewhere where all people know about you is what you choose to tell them.”

Bitty laughs a little, but like Jack earlier, it isn’t because anything’s funny. “The only thing people ever said about me was that I was probably gay. Y’know, they turned out to be right, but I wish I’d gotten there on my own. I don’t want anyone to tell me who I am.”

Jack is quiet for a minute before saying, “I’ve been compared to my dad my whole life. We went into the same career, for one thing, but we look so alike too. I used to hate looking in the mirror because all I saw was him. And it wasn’t his fault, but for a long time people only thought of me as his son.”

“Do they think of you differently now?”

He chuckles, thinking of some joke only apparent to him. “I should hope so. If not, they will soon.”

“Planning something big?”

“Yes,” Jack says, still smiling a little wider. “I am. I should probably be nervous, but honestly, I can’t wait for Monday to come.”

Bitty can’t help smiling back. “I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you. That means a lot. Hardly anyone even knows I’m planning something. It’s odd to just be going through life and knowing that things are going to completely change soon, but almost nobody around you has a clue.”

“Wish I could say I knew that feeling.”

“Are you not out to anyone?” Jack says, and Bitty wonders how Jack knew precisely what he was talking about, but he doesn’t have much time to wonder because he has to answer the question.

“My teammates, yes. My family, no. Honestly, with the team, it wasn’t a challenge. They were all really supportive, and besides, it’s  _ Samwell. _ It also helped that the alternates last year turned out to be dating each other, but overall the team was really great.”

Jack latches on to one phrase. “Your family?”

Bitty sighs. “I’d  _ like _ to tell them, but they’re just so... so  _ Southern. _ My dad’s a football coach, for goodness’ sake. And my Moo Maw’s very religious, I don’t know how she’d take it. Mom wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to tell her and not everyone else.”

“My family’s not religious,” Jack says. “But they’ve also known I was bi since I was seventeen. If you rip the Band-Aid off, it won’t hurt as long.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement as best I can.”

“I’m coming out on Monday.”

Bitty takes a moment to keep track of where the conversation’s gone, but he catches up with Jack’s train of thought quickly. “That’s what your plan is?”

“Yes.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, you said that it was going to change everything? How does coming out change everything for you?”

Jack weighs his answer for a minute before saying, “Because I’ll be the first out player in the NHL. My dad definitely never did that.”

Bitty’s aware that he’s probably staring dumbly at Jack, but all he can manage is, “So. You’re in the NHL.”

“Yes.” Jack looks a bit uncomfortable. “Sorry I didn’t mention that earlier, but you said you were NCAA and I didn’t really want to get drawn into a conversation about hockey. It’s great, but you know. When it’s your life, it can get to be too much, eh?”

Bitty nods absently. “Well, all I can say is, thanks for deciding I wasn’t going to be a crazed fan!”

“Oh, you seemed too nice to hound me about Kent Parson.”

With that comment, everything clicks.

“Jack Zimmermann?”

Jack nods.

“You’re the captain of the Falconers.”

“Yes.”

“You’re coming out to the world on Monday.”

“Yes.”

“And you told me three days early.”

“Yes.”

“Why? I’m just some random person in an airport. For all you know, I could be a reporter pretending not to know who you are so you tell me things.”

Jack shrugs. “Why not? Also, reporters have tried that with me before, and none of them have ever chosen to pretend to be someone even remotely affiliated with hockey. The moment you said you were an NCAA captain, I knew you were genuine. Besides, you told me what school you play at. It’s easy enough to check the roster, and. Well. I did that when I went to go get food. It’s nice to meet you, Eric Bittle.”

“You as well, Jack Zimmermann.” Bitty’s quiet for a moment before he says, “I feel like we should shake hands again or something.”

“That’s fine.”

They shake hands. Jack’s hand is warm and surprisingly soft for a hockey player. He holds Bitty’s hand in a loose grip, the kind of handshake from a strong person who knows their own strength.

“Well, Bitty, you now know one more thing about me than almost the entire rest of the world.”

“Not once Monday rolls around,” Bitty reminds him.

“True.” Jack is silent for a minute. “Actually, as nice as this has been, I have some reading to finish, do you mind if I—?”

“Go ahead,” Bitty says. “I may as well get started on that reading I didn’t do over break. Do me a favor, if you notice me going on Twitter instead of reading, can you tell me to knock it off?”

Jack smiles, a full smile this time. “I can do that.”

“Good. Oh, wait, just one thing before I do start my reading.” Bitty pulls his phone out, tilting the screen towards Jack so he can see Bitty open his studying playlist. “Not Twitter, see? I just can’t focus without music on.”

“Beyonce,” Jack reads off the list. “I’ve heard of her, is she good?”

_ “Jack Zimmermann.” _

“What?”

“Are you kidding me right— you’re not. Okay. For your  _ information,  _ Beyonce is the  _ single best female artist to ever have existed and—  _ actually, I’ll just show you. Do you mind using earbuds?”

“No?”

“Good.” Bitty plugs his earbuds into the jack— ha, Jack— and gives the left one to Jack while keeping the right one for himself. “Just listen, and if you’re not one of those people who can read with music playing, you can just hand that back to me once this song is done.” He scrolls down to the middle of the list and hits play on Halo, because  _ obviously _ they need to start with a classic. Bitty digs his reading out of his backpack, but he has a hard time focusing on it, even with music playing, because Jack reads in an  _ unfairly _ attractive manner. He purses his lips when he reaches confusing passages and turns the page slowly as he reads the last few words. Bitty has never paid attention to how someone  _ reads _ before. He’d tell himself it was ridiculous, but honestly? What with how easily Jack mentioned his bi-ness, Bitty can’t shut his mind down with the ‘he’s probably straight’ argument.

His mind might spontaneously combust if Jack bites his lip again though.

Bitty wouldn’t even have noticed the end of the song, too busy trying to tear his gaze away from Jack and keep it on his Food Science PDF, but Jack pauses in his reading when Halo ends and says, “That was nice. Usually I’m more of a country person, but it was good, I liked it.”

“My dad lives and breathes country music,” Bitty comments as some other song starts up— he’s too busy thinking about Jack to even bother trying to identify it, which is a sure sign that he’s going up in flames.

Jack smiles softly at Bitty. “I’d like to meet him. Your mother, too. Anyone who helped raise you must be amazing.”

Bitty can’t stop the heat rising to his face, and he stops even trying to pretend to pay attention to his reading. “You’re a flatterer.”

“I don’t like lying,” Jack says matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to lie about anything.”

“I don’t want you to either.” The words come almost without Bitty thinking them first.

“Then you’ll forgive me asking you to come to our game against the Bruins tomorrow evening?”

“Only if you’ll forgive me for saying yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

They share earbuds for the rest of their time waiting to board— Bitty’s never been so grateful for his portable charger before. With some time and effort, he takes a page or so of notes on his Food Science reading, but he’s not actually convinced he’s absorbed any of it. His mind is too busy screaming because in a matter of minutes,  _ Jack Zimmermann _ had met him, come out to him, listened to Beyonce with him, and asked him to come to a hockey game Saturday night. Bitty will be hard put to get any sleep on the flight if this keeps up.

He must have dozed off at some point, because Bitty  _ knows _ he was just jotting down a couple more notes, but the next thing he knows, his notebook has slid off his lap onto the floor and Jack is tapping his shoulder. “Bitty? It’s almost time to board.”

“Oh, is it?” Bitty says once he’s had a chance to look around at his surroundings a bit more. The people on their flight seem to be the only ones left in the airport, spread out in the chairs or sprawled on the ground to take a nap. “I must have drifted off, sorry.”

And there’s that smile again, considerably wider and brighter than any he’s ever seen from Jack on TV. “It’s okay. But we’re boarding soon, so you might want to pack your things up?”

“Right.”

“What seat do you have?”

Bitty digs his boarding pass out of his backpack. “23C.”

“Oh,” Jack says, looking a bit put out. “I’m in business class.”

“You’d have to be to have enough room to stretch your legs out, now, wouldn’t you?” Bitty jokes, but he understands Jack’s tiny pout, which, by the way, is  _ adorable— _ moving on. “Not all of us are over six feet tall.”

“No, I guess you aren’t.” Jack frowns for a moment as he thinks, then says, “Wait here” before getting up and going to the desk where the flight attendants are standing, looking as equally bored and tired as their passengers.

Bitty sincerely hopes he isn’t changing his seat to economy. He knows from his teammates (particularly Holster) that for most hockey players, himself excluded, cramming one’s legs into an economy seat is just not feasible for any flight longer than an hour or two. As much as he’d like to be able to sit by Jack during the flight, Jack has a game tomorrow. Surely he should know that’s a bad idea.

He packs up his things anyway, since there are only ten or so minutes until boarding, and watches as Jack discusses something with the flight attendant talking to him. They’re too far away for Bitty to hear a word they’re saying, but he sees the flight attendant nod and Jack smile. He comes back with a piece of paper in hand and offers it to Bitty.

“This is a boarding pass.”

Jack nods.

“With my name on it, and it says business class.”

Jack nods again.

_ “Jack Zimmermann, _ I hope you are not saying that you paid to upgrade my seat to business class. I can’t pay you back!”

“I asked them to transfer my frequent flier miles to your account,” Jack says. “There were enough for a free upgrade. Didn’t cost a cent.”

“I am flabbergasted.”

“Oh.” There it is again, the sad eyes that remind Bitty of a puppy and break his heart simultaneously. “I can take it back if you—”

“No, no, I wasn’t saying that,” Bitty says hurriedly. “But... it’s kind of a lot, isn’t it?”

“No, I always fly business class,” Jack says matter-of-factly. “I didn’t have a use for that upgrade anyway. And I wanted to keep talking to you.”

Good lord. Jack is blushing again and Bitty really is not sure he can handle it. What on earth is he supposed to say to that?

“Well, thank you very much, but I hope you don’t regret it,” Bitty’s mouth says of its own will. “I can get very chatty, which I don’t think is desirable for red-eye flights.”

Then he curses himself. That was  _ definitely _ not the expression of gratitude he wanted to say.

“That’s okay,” Jack says. “I like hearing you talk.”

“You are going to be the death of me if you keep saying things like that, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“I fully intend to.”

The flight attendant calls for first class to board, and then business class and it’s time for them to go. Bitty holds out his new boarding pass to the flight attendant, who smiles at him and Jack and says “Enjoy the flight.”

“We will,” Jack says, and Bitty can’t keep himself from smiling.

 

Bitty has to admit that the extra leg room in business class is an excellent deal, even if he’s barely over five foot seven. He can recline his chair  _ and _ have room to stretch out his legs at the same time, which is not an option in economy seats.

They take off a little after 1:15, with the cabin dimmed so that people can sleep. Jack, after asking Bitty, turns on his overhead light and takes his book back out; Bitty offers him the left earbud again and Jack takes it with a soft smile.

Bitty has the window seat and he looks out at the city below as they take off; even though it’s after one in the morning, parts of San Francisco are still lit up like someone threw thousands of strings of lights on the ground and turned them all on at once. The lights twinkle up at them until the plane ascends up past the clouds and Bitty can’t see the ground anymore. He slides the shade back down the window just as Jack puts a bookmark in and closes his book.

“Done with your reading?”

“For now,” Jack says. “All I used to do was read. It was great, but I missed a lot of stuff— a lot of people and chances I could have taken— because staying behind a book was easier. So I’m trying not to do that anymore. I’m trying to be present in the world. I guess after... after the draft, and all the things that came with it—”

_ The overdose, _ Bitty mentally fills in, but if Jack doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t bring it up.

“I kind of had to notice that while I was busy reading and playing hockey and all those things, life was passing me by. So sometimes putting the book down is hard. But sometimes it’s the easiest thing I’ve done that day.”

Bitty smiles a bit. “I was never really a reader, myself. Every time I tried to sit down and concentrate on a book, I just couldn’t. I had to distract myself to get through it, so I started to listen to music while I read and take notes and draw, just to give me enough things to do that I wouldn’t have enough left over to be distracted.”

“That’s the  _ complete _ opposite of me,” Jack says with a soft laugh. “I can get so focused on things that I tune everything else out.”

“That’s why you’re so good at what you do, though.”

“I guess. I never really thought much about it until I got to the Q and all around me, people would get distracted by what seemed to me to be ridiculous things. Like if they fought with their parents, that would be all they could think about. It annoyed me.”

“It doesn’t now?”

Jack shrugs. “I have things to care about too now.”

“I used to figure skate,” Bitty says. “I always did better if I brought my problems with me onto the ice. At the last competition I did, I skated like it was the last time I would ever do it, because it was. And then I won. Went out with a bang, I guess.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Nobody at my school wanted to accept a short gay boy who figure skated.”

Jack’s brow furrows like he doesn’t understand. “But you must have been good, to win competitions.”

“I was,” Bitty says. “After that, we moved to a different town, but it was too far from my coach. So I quit figure skating and started hockey instead. I didn’t want to start the whole cycle again in a new place.”

Jack’s voice is impossibly quiet when he asks, “Did it work?”

“I played for one year before I was made captain. That was enough that I could stay under the radar, I guess. But it didn’t help that it was a coed team and it’s not like I got any straighter.”

“But you got out of there.”

“Yeah. Best decision I ever made, to be honest. I’ve got my team and Samwell and with that, hiding at home doesn’t feel as bad because I know I can come back to school. Madison never really felt like my home anyway, I only ever go back to see my family.”

“Do you think you’ll stay in Boston once you graduate?”

“If I can find a job and an apartment I can afford, yes. Some friends of mine are living in Cambridge, so I might stay with them for a while until I get on my feet. That’s the plan, but if I find a place within the next couple months, it might change. I’m trying to be flexible. Worst comes to absolute worst, I can pay for a plane ticket out to San Francisco and stay with Ransom and Holster again. Shitty will still be busy with law school next year, and Lardo might—”

“Sorry, did you say you have a friend named Shitty?”

“Oh, yeah, he hates his name, he’s never told me what it is. Everyone calls him Shitty. He got it as a hockey nickname in high school and it’s stuck ever since. He and Lardo are living in Cambridge but I’m not sure if they’ll have space for me to hang around for a while, although I’m sure they’d appreciate help with the rent.”

“I’m assuming Ransom and Holster and Lardo are also hockey nicknames?”

“Yeah, Ransom and Holster were the alternates last year, and Lardo was our manager. She’s the best person at flip cup I’ve ever seen. Owned  _ everyone _ at kegsters.”

Jack asks him more questions about his teammates, and before long Bitty is telling him about how once Nursey tripped over the carpet and fell on Chowder and Chowder didn’t even notice because he was watching a Sharks game, and last year when they stayed out on the roof of Faber all night before graduation, and Jack soaks it all up like a sponge, these people and names and places he has no reason to care about. Hours could have easily passed, and Bitty gets the feeling Jack would still listen— wait, hours probably  _ have _ passed. 

“Sorry,” Bitty says. “I know I ramble.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if I don’t want to talk anymore,” Jack answers. “Besides, I never played college hockey. It sounds like you have the time of your life.”

“Didn’t you go to college?”

“No, I got my degree online in the years I took off. Did a five-year master’s program and then I got signed.”

“What was your major?”

“History. I specialize in World War Two. I’m thinking about getting a PhD once I retire, because I’ll definitely be done playing professional hockey by the time I’m forty. Then, I don’t know what. I might coach a kids’ hockey team. I did that while I was getting my master’s. Or maybe I’ll go into teaching. I can’t just retire and stay retired, though. I’ve spent so much of my life working around the clock that slowing down just a little will feel like the biggest vacation ever.” Jack smiles. “I do love hockey, but I’m looking forward to that point when my life doesn’t revolve around it anymore.”

“From what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like yours does,” Bitty points out. “You have a graduate degree in something unrelated to sports and you’re reading a novel right now and you had to have some reason for staying an extra day on the West Coast while your team went back.”

“I had to patch some things up with my ex. We can’t really avoid each other, so sooner or later we had to figure out some way to let go of everything else that happened between us.”

“Why can’t you avoid each other if you live on opposite sides of the country?”

“Our lives just got too connected. We still see each other at family gatherings because my parents will invite his mom and he’ll come too, but we never talked to each other after it ended. I didn’t even tell him why I broke things off. I stopped talking to him for almost ten years There... there wasn’t really anything else to do but fix some things up so he’d be prepared for when I come out on Monday. We’ll never get back to where we were, not that I would want to go back to that, but... I don’t know. I didn’t want to just leave all those loose ends.”

Bitty thinks about how he would gladly cut off a lot of people he knew when he was in high school, and says, “I can’t relate, but I think I understand.”

“I needed some sort of closure,” Jack says. “I just stopped talking to him after the draft, which could easily have been exactly what I needed to do at that point, but it still didn’t feel  _ over _ , even though it was. I mean, I dated other people, but it never felt like a fresh start. Now it does.”

“You get a blank slate.”

“Yeah. I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have concluded that there WILL be a part 3. whether it's the same length as these two or more of an epilogue-y thing, i don't know, but it'll definitely exist so keep an eye out!  
> some things: after jack's overdose, he did an online 5-year master's program and coached a peewee team. he released a statement after he finished his degree basically saying 'hi i'm back and available to sign' and the falconers, who are still a p new expansion team, jumped all over that. they don't regret it, since 3 years later jack is the captain and they've already managed 2 stanley cups just in the time he's been there  
> some more things: you already know about ransom and holster. shitty is still at harvard law, and lardo lives with him. nobody really knows if they're dating or not, but they've decided not to ask.  
> also, bitty definitely wants to go to a grocery store in madison and say to the first person he recognizes from school, 'move i'm gay'. he is restraining himself tho because he's not out to anyone down there


	3. Chapter 3

Jack falls asleep some time later, and even though Bitty must have slept for a couple of hours at the gate, almost immediately he yawns like his life depends on it. With nothing to do but listen to music and do his reading for class, sleep suddenly seems like a great alternative to being productive, so Bitty pauses his music and stops trying to keep his eyes open.

It seems like only a moment later he can feel bright lights shining down on his closed eyelids and a flight attendant announcing that they’ve landed in Boston. As Bitty remembers where he is, it becomes rapidly aware that some things have changed since he fell asleep. For one thing, there’s a blanket spread over him, probably one of the ones that the airplane provides. For another, he’s not sitting upright. He’s curled up in his chair with his head on someone’s shoulder. Someone’s very broad shoulder.  _ Jack’s _ shoulder.

“You awake, Bitty?” Jack says.

“Yeah.” Bitty sits up and tries as best he can without a mirror to get his hair into some semblance of not looking like he just woke up.  He can tell it’s not working very well. “At least, I think I am? Are we getting off the plane?”

“Not yet, we still have to taxi up to the gate, but soon.”

“Okay.” Bitty turned his phone off when he went to sleep, so hopefully it still has some battery left. He’s proven right when the screen turns on, but he only has twelve percent left. It’s probably better to keep airplane mode on until he can get to an outlet.

Since they’re in business class, and not in economy, Bitty manages to get off the plane much faster than usual. Neither he nor Jack starts up a conversation on the way to baggage claim, but they almost automatically walk in step the whole way. There’s an outlet right by the carousel at baggage claim, so Bitty plugs his phone in and turns airplane mode off.

There’s a barrage of messages and one missed phone call from Dex. As Bitty scrolls more carefully through his notifications, all of the messages seem to be from Dex as well, which is weird because Dex doesn’t double text.

It’ll be easiest if he just calls, so that’s what he does, but it’s not Dex who picks up.

“Hey, Bitty,” Nursey says cheerfully. “How was the flight?”

“Good. I haven’t looked at my messages, do you know why there are so many? Also, why do you have Dex’s phone?”

“Oh. So Dex’s truck’s heating broke, so we had to take my car over to pick you up, but the heating broke like twenty minutes into the trip and then we had to go back so we’re gonna be late. And my phone broke but Dex wanted to update you on what’s going on so I have his phone and he’s driving. We’ll be there in like...” Bitty hears Dex’s muffled voice on the other end of the line and Nursey says, “Half an hour. Dex is speeding. Don’t tell anyone.”

Dex’s  _ I am not! _ is loud enough that Bitty can hear it through the phone, but before a full-blown argument starts, Nursey hangs up.

Bitty turns off his phone so it’ll charge faster and sighs. Airports are never his favorite place to hang out, and he already spent six hours waiting in San Francisco. Maybe if the baggage claim takes a long time he won’t have as much time to kill.

“Everything okay?” Jack asks from where he’s standing by the carousel.

“Yeah, my ride is just going to be late, so I have some time to spare. I’ll probably go to Starbucks or something.”

Jack nods, and Bitty thinks that’s the end of that conversation (which it is), but when he gets his suitcase and starts off to Starbucks, Jack comes with him.

“It’s okay if you have somewhere else you need to go,” Bitty starts, but Jack says, “I don’t, my car is here and I don’t have anywhere to be until the game tonight.”

“Okay,” Bitty says. “But you bought me food, so I’m paying for this.”

“You know, if you pay for this one, I’m just going to have to buy you food again so we’re even.”

“That is  _ not _ how being even works. You  _ already _ bought me food.”

“But what if I want to get food with you again?”

“Good lord, you are going to be the death of me.”

“I hope you don’t mean that literally,” Jack says seriously. “Otherwise I would have to ask where you were getting your information.”

“Ha. Fortunately for both of us, I don’t. If I really did die because of you my mama would probably have a lawsuit ready before you could say ‘my condolences.’”

“You say that like she’s done it before.”

“She’s not  _ that _ type of suburban PTA mom, thank goodness.”

“What type is she?”

“The one who insists on bringing baked goods to everything. She and my Moo Maw taught me everything I know about baking.”

“You bake?”

“Indeed I do! Mostly pies, though I  _ do _ have an award-winning peach cobbler.”

“I’d love to try it sometime.”

“I’ll make sure you do!” Bitty is about to plunge into a discussion of the various baking competitions he’s entered into but they’re next in line, so he refrains and says instead to the barista, “Hi, could we get a grande cinnamon dolce latte and a...”

“Grande dark roast,” Jack says.

“Name?”

“Eric,” Bitty says, and pays in cash, dropping the change into the tip jar before they go find a table.

The Starbucks is fairly empty, probably because it’s seven AM on a Saturday, and their drinks are at the bar quite quickly. No sooner have they sat back down at the table then Jack says, “So, award-winning peach cobbler? What did it win?”

“A blue ribbon, thank you very much.”

Just like he did when they were talking about Bitty’s team, Jack listens intently and nods along with things he understands and asks questions about things he doesn’t, but he finishes his coffee long before Bitty does because Bitty’s been talking so much more.

“You’re more of a listener than a talker, aren’t you,” Bitty says, breaking off his own discussion of the merits of using chilled berries instead of room-temperature ones in berry pies.

“Yes,” Jack says, following the shift in topic easily. “Falconers PR hates me because I answer everything the press ask me in one word or less. Or I redirect it to someone else on the team. I don’t think they’ve gotten a good interview from me since the press conference when I was made captain, and that was because I had to talk. I like listening to people. I don’t really like being the center of attention.”

“Guess it got old, huh?”

“Definitely. I don’t know how my dad does it, he got a Twitter just so he could talk  _ more.” _

“Oh, I understand the appeal of Twitter.”

Jack’s smile is just a bit short of a laugh. “I know. When we were waiting for the flight you told me that if I saw you tweeting I should make you go back to your reading.”

“It worked, though! I didn’t tweet once.”

“But did you do your reading?”

“I will have you know that I did, so you can stop chirping me, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“I can’t just  _ stop _ chirping. I’m a hockey player. My dad’s a hockey player. It’s in my blood.”

The minutes slip away until Bitty’s phone is vibrating in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see that it’s Dex calling him again. Or, more likely, Nursey, especially as Dex hates talking on the phone with a burning passion.

“Sorry, it’s my ride,” he says to Jack, who nods and busies himself scrolling through his own phone.

“Hey, Bitty!” Nursey says loudly, over the sound of Dex in the background saying “Or you could just  _ text _ him like a  _ normal person, _ Nurse—” and then Dex gets abruptly cut off.

“Dex is probably going to lick my hand,” Nursey informs Bitty. “But before he does, I just wanted to let you know that we’re parked out—  _ ow, _ Poindexter, what the— Bitty, he  _ bit _ me, that’s just  _ unreasonable _ .”

“Derek Nurse, I am not going to deal with your UST-related shenanigans before eight in the morning.”

“No, Bitty, what the—”

Bitty cuts off Nursey’s half-hearted denial. “Just tell me where you are please?”

“Parked outside Terminal A. That’s where you are, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a bit, I just have to finish my coffee.”

“Okay, we’ll see you then.” Nursey hangs up.

When Bitty puts his phone back in his pocket, Jack looks up. “Your ride is here?”

“Yeah. I have to go, I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Of course. I should probably get going too, come to think of it. And before I forget, can I have your phone number?”

“Yeah!” They swap phones and Bitty puts his number in Jack’s contacts, taking a selfie and adding it as his contact picture just in case Jack is bad with names. He notices that Jack doesn’t do the same, but that’s okay. Bitty will definitely remember who he is.

When Jack hands his phone back, Bitty immediately texts him. Jack sees the notification on his screen and raises his eyebrows a bit at Bitty. “Hi yourself.”

Bitty smiles and guesses correctly that Jack will walk with him to the curb where Nursey’s car will be waiting. The walk feels way too short, and Nursey is waiting outside his car, so Bitty can’t even pretend to not have seen them, but he doesn’t want to just go.

“Make sure to let me know if you want extra tickets for your friends,” Jack reminds him, and that’s when Bitty remembers that, oh yeah, Jack has invited him to the Bruins game. 

Suddenly the walk to Nursey’s car doesn’t seem quite so bleak, and Bitty smiles. “A few would be good, yeah.” Especially seeing as he’s definitely going to need a ride from someone else to get there. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay.”

On an impulse, Bitty steps foward and hugs Jack, who stills for a moment in surprise before hugging him back. He has very nice arms. 

“I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“See you,” Jack echoes, and he doesn’t start walking to his own car until Bitty starts for Nursey’s. Even as Bitty is putting his suitcase in the trunk, he’s aware of Jack getting farther and farther away, but his phone with Jack’s number in it is a solid weight of reassurance.

“Who was that?” Nursey asks when Bitty finally gets into the car.

“Oh, just someone who can get us free tickets to the game tonight between the Bruins and the Falconers,” Bitty says casually. It’s good Dex hasn’t started the car yet because he almost falls out of his seat. Nursey emits a high-pitched sound that might be a squeak. “And I was wondering if I could borrow your car, but it really seemed easier to just invite you along. Do you think Chowder wants to come?”

Dex and Nursey trade glances before Dex says, “I mean, it’s not the Sharks, but... yeah. He will.”

“Great! So now we have plans.”

“Bitty, you didn’t answer my question,” Nursey says. “Who  _ was _ that?”

Bitty smiles, half to Nursey and half to himself. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He opens up his phone.

 

**Bitty:** is 3 people + me too much?

 

Jack responds within a minute. 

 

**Jack:** No, that’s fine. I can also get you locker room access after the game if you want?

**Bitty:** ARE YOU KIDDING THAT WOULD BE AMAZING

**Jack:** OK, I’ll tell the GM. See you tonight

**Bitty:** see u then :)

**Jack:** :-)

 

“He’s blushing,” Dex observes, glancing in the rearview mirror as he pulls out of his parking place. “If Ransom and Holster were here, they’d fine you so hard.”

“I’m broke, don’t bother,” Bitty says.

“We’ll probably have tons of opportunity to fine him later once we find out who that guy was,” Nursey says.

Dex concurs, and Bitty halfheartedly protests, but his mind is already on the game that night. It’s going to be interesting, for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so..... yeah..... this is gonna have a part 4 because i just keep having more stuff to write about!!!!! aGH this was not supposed to be this long lmao but i'm gonna keep going as long as i have ideas  
> (of course i had to get a coffee date in there somewhere)


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey Chowder, do you want to go to the Bruins-Falconers game tonight?” Bitty asks when he walks into the living room. Chowder is sitting on the green couch and playing Mario Kart against AI players. Dex, who followed Bitty in, plops down next to Chowder on the couch to watch. Bitty stays standing. “We have enough tickets for you, me, Nursey, and Dex, but I need to know now if you’re coming or not.”

“Sure!” Chowder says as he violently checks Donkey Kong off a bridge. “How’d you get the tickets? Aren’t they pretty expensive in the playoffs?”

“He hasn’t told us,” Nursey shouts from the stairs, where he’s returning from dropping his jacket off in the attic. Once Ransom and Holster had been convinced that Nursey and Dex wouldn’t actually murder each other if they had to be around each other all the time, they’d gladly offered their dibs. “ _But_ he said he got them from this guy that he walked out of the airport with. And—” Nursey is right behind Bitty now, and Bitty can hear the smirk in his voice— “they _hugged.”_

“What?” Dex shoots up off the couch. “When did that happen?”

“You were in the car.”

“I miss everything,” Dex grumbles as he sinks back onto the couch.

“But Bitty still hasn’t told us anything else,” Nursey tells Chowder. “Not even, like, how he _met_ the guy. He’s being cryptic.”

“Nursey, I told you that you would find out soon enough.”

“If Bitty says that, I believe him,” Chowder agrees as he finishes the race. “But that doesn’t mean this isn’t an important development! When was the last time you went on a date, Bitty? Last year? Two years ago?”

“True, it’s been forever since you went out with someone,” Dex says. “When was that rugby guy hanging around?”

“September,” Nursey fills in. “So, beginning of this year, but it’s not like that lasted long.”

“You boys are ganging up on me. Who said anything about dating?”

“You blushed at your phone in the car.”

“You were staring at it the whole way back.”

“You’re blushing right now.”

“ _Enough._ No more chirping or I can tell him that I only need one ticket for the game. And I’ll _certainly_ only need Falconers locker room access for one person.”

“Bitty, that’s unfair, you never told us we were getting locker room access,” Nursey says.

“You won’t be if you keep on chirping me!”

Chowder frowns. “I hope you don’t think that we’re trying to embarrass you. You’ve hardly done anything but stress bake and play hockey this year. Just because you’re the captain now doesn’t mean you can’t have other things happening in your life. You can’t only do hockey. It just sounds like you really like this guy. We—” and here he gestures to all three of them— “want you to be happy. And we all see how hard it’s been for you to captain the team by yourself with a brand-new manager and do your classwork and still be there to support us with our own crises. You deserve something for yourself.”

There’s a long pause as all three of the frogs— now juniors, oh lord, Bitty isn’t ready for them to be seniors and him to be an alumni— watch Bitty to see how he reacts.

“Thank you, Chowder.” Bitty steps around the green couch and sits in the armchair. “I know I’ve been putting a lot more time into the team this year but it must have been more draining than I realized. I honestly didn’t even notice how long it’s been since I’ve done much other than play hockey, bake, and sleep.”

“Stop lying, Bitty, you don’t sleep, you just go on Twitter,” Dex says, and Nursey snickers. “But yeah. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“Seconded,” Nursey says. “Which is why I’m lending you my blue sweater, because otherwise you wouldn’t have anything in Falconers colors.”

“Nurse, that’s my sweater.”

“Then why is it hanging in my closet?”

“ _We share a closet._ And furthermore, you shouldn’t hang that sweater, it’ll stretch it out. Fold it and put it away properly.”

Nursey is taken aback for a moment, but he’s not at a loss for long. “Oh. Well, anyway, Bitty, that’s why I’m lending you Dex’s blue sweater, because otherwise you wouldn’t have anything in Falconers colors. And it’s probably going to be big on you because _apparently_ it’s stretched out. But don’t worry, you can pull it off.”

“Let’s meet up down here at four-thirty,” Bitty says after glancing at his phone to check the time. “Maybe I should bake a pie...”

“If you’re planning on bringing it with you to the Falcs’ locker room, you should bake at least two,” Dex says. “Apple, maybe. Pretty much everyone likes that.”

“They’d probably appreciate it if you could work maple syrup into it somehow,” Nursey says, picking up a controller to play Mario Kart alongside Chowder. “Don’t they have, like, the largest percentage of Canadians out of all the American franchises?”

“Think so,” Chowder says. “Bitty?”

“Yeah,” Bitty says, remembering the ‘eh’s that had peppered Jack’s speech (not to mention the _accent,_ goodness— he’d never particularly thought of French-Canadian as one of the more attractive accents, and yet). “Maple apple pie should be perfect.”

 

Bitty has just put the third and final pie into the oven when Nursey races downstairs with Dex’s blue sweater in hand and announces that he needs to get changed now if he wants to be ready by four-thirty.

“It’s three-fifteen,” Bitty protests. “Besides, what about the—”

“I’ll watch the pie,” Dex volunteers. Bitty could swear he wasn’t even in the kitchen a minute ago. “You go get ready. And keep the sweater, I have a feeling it’s going to suit you much more than it ever suited me.”

“I can’t believe I’ve reached the point where my own frogs are mothering me,” Bitty mumbles as he’s swept up the stairs to his room.

“Someone has to,” Nursey says, handing him the sweater and closing the door.

Okay. It’s not like Bitty _wants_ to take Dex’s sweater. It’s too broad across the shoulders and the cuffs reach his fingertips. But it’s quite possibly the softest sweater he’s ever worn, probably because Dex buys his clothes solely based on comfort, and when he pops into the bathroom to fix his hair he knows Dex was right. That shade of blue is not only almost exactly Falconers colors, but it also complements his hair. He is going to look _so good._ And listen, Bitty’s trying not to overanalyze to see if Jack is really interested in him, but if he isn’t, Bitty is going to do his best to change that and this sweater will help.

He’s further corroborated when he walks downstairs at four twenty-eight and Chowder says “Wow, Bitty, you look great!”, echoed almost immediately by Nursey and Dex, the latter of which is already carefully packing up the three maple-syrup-crusted apple pies to take with them to the game.

“I’m forcing you to keep that sweater,” Dex says. “And Nursey can buy me a new one.”

“Navy would suit you better anyway.”

 

They pile into Nursey’s car; Dex drives again, and Nursey claims shotgun since “it’s my car, Chow, and I have longer legs than you do anyway.” Chowder and Bitty share the backseat, and Bitty makes the fatal mistake of assuming Chowder won’t be as attentive when looking for possible fines.

He is wrong.

He is so, so wrong.

Bitty only meant to send a quick text to Jack, telling him that they were on their way and wishing him good luck at the game. No sooner had he pressed ‘send’ than Chowder holds a Ziploc bag under his nose. “Smiling _and_ blushing at your phone. Three bucks for the portable Sin Bin.”

“Ninety percent of that money goes into my pies anyway, Chowder.”

“Thirty cents in the portable Sin Bin, then. You still have to pay up. Fineable offenses are fineable offenses.”

Dex chuckles from the driver’s seat. “I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve said that to _you.”_

“A lot,” Chowder agrees. “So I’m taking this opportunity to say it to someone else!” He shakes the Ziploc bag under Bitty’s nose. “Thirty cents.”

Bitty sighs and pulls out his wallet, but he doesn’t have any change on him and drops in a dollar bill instead. “Happy?”

“Very,” Chowder says, closing the bag and returning to his side of the backseat. “We’re gonna make _so much_ money off you.”

 

They have a hard time finding a parking place at the TD Garden, but after some swearing and some cutting people off, Dex pulls into a spot fairly close to the main entrance.

“I hope the driver of that SUV doesn’t come to get revenge,” Nursey says. “Especially seeing as this is my car.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to drive it, then,” Dex retorts, and they seem to  start to bicker, but Chowder is one step ahead of them.

“Fine! Unnecessary arguing with your fellow d-man, two dollars from each of you in the portable Sin Bin.”

“That _can’t_ be a real thing,” Dex says.

“It was one of the last things Lardo did as leader of the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team High Court.”

Four dollars get added to the Ziploc bag, and they make the rest of the walk in silence, except for when Bitty’s phone buzzes several times in quick succession.

 

**Jack:** Your seats are right behind the family section

**Jack:** I asked for tickets in the box but there’s a limit of two seats per player so I couldn’t. Sorry :-(

**Jack:** When you get to the door just tell the usher that your tickets are being held for you under ‘Bittle’ and they’ll check to make sure that one of you is Bittle and then let you in.

**Jack:** And after the game ends just wait in your seats for an usher to come get you so you can come to the locker room!

**Bitty:** how fast do u type? i got all 4 of those in like 1 minute

**Jack:** I have a Swype keyboard.

**Bitty:** oh that makes sense

**Bitty:** also it’s ok that u didn’t get seats in the family section honestly those seats are already so much better than i could have hoped for

**Jack:** OK, good

**Bitty:** i know i already said it but good luck at the game!! :)))))

**Jack:** Thank you :-)

 

Chowder is watching with bated breath as Bitty texts Jack, but Bitty probably crushes his hopes when he says, “Don’t look so excited, he was just telling me how to get in the door since we don’t have our tickets with us.”

“That was an awfully long conversation for just telling you how to get in the door,” Dex points out.

“He also told me what to do after the game so we can go down to the locker room.”

“Oh. Well, how _do_ we get in the door?”

“Just say we have tickets being held for us and prove that one of us is Eric Bittle.”

“That was an awfully long conversation for—”

“Dex, honey, I know you’re trying to get me to put money in the Ziploc bag—”

“The portable Sin Bin,” Chowder corrects.

“But I already put in a dollar instead of thirty cents that one time so I think I’m good, right?”

Dex frowns and says, more grumbling to himself than anyone else, “But I need a lot of epoxy to fix the bannister in the Haus.”

“Just wait until Bitty actually introduces us to his mystery friend,” Nursey says. “Then you can fine them for everything they’re worth. Speaking of which, Bitty, how _exactly_ did he get us locker room access?”

“He works for the Falconers,” Bitty says.

“ _Sweet.”_ Nursey accepts this as an answer, as do Dex and Chowder, which is great, because Bitty is holding out for meeting up with Jack after the game as the moment for a dramatic reveal.

“Tickets?” the usher asks when they reach the door.

Bitty puts on his best smile. “Our tickets should be being held for us under ‘Bittle’?”

“Which one of you is Bittle?” she asks, and when Bitty points to himself, she says, “Okay, sir, can I see your driver’s license?” She checks to make sure his name really is Eric Bittle and holds up the card to see if the picture looks like him, then hands it back and says, “You’re good to go. Just head to the customer support booth once you’re inside— it’ll be on the left— and they’ll give you your tickets so you can find your seats. Enjoy the game.”

Claiming their tickets is a fairly straightforward process, and when they get to their seats, Nursey actually whistles at how close they are to the ice. Tickets aren’t exactly cheap to Bruins games, even if they’re there supporting the other side. Or at least, Bitty is. Chowder probably is too, since the Sharks are in the playoffs as well and the Falconers will probably be more of an equal match for them than the Bruins, but he has no idea who Dex and Nursey are rooting for. Oh, well. They’re still in amazing seats, so Bitty pulls out his phone to once again assure Jack that it’s perfectly fine that they aren’t in the family section.

 

**Bitty:** these seats are FANTASTIC

**Bitty:** my friends are giving me sideeye bc all i told them was that i met a guy who worked for the falconers  & could get us tickets

**Bitty:** they’re giving me more sideeye now so i’m gonna go, see you after the game!!!

 

Jack doesn’t respond, but it’s close enough to the first time the puck will drop that he’s probably embroiled in strategy, so Bitty doesn’t overthink it. He turns off his own phone during games, and has missed many a text from his mother because of it.

He’s wondering why Chowder hasn’t thrust the portable Sin Bin under his nose when the reason becomes readily apparent. Everyone else’s gazes are practically glued to the ice; the game is about to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sORRY SORRY I LIED THIS WAS NOT THE CHAPTER FEATURING THE ACTUAL GAME  
> that'll be the next one i swear  
> anyway. i am 100% unapologetic for this chapter being focused on bitty & the frogs, i've come to the conclusion that this is gonna be long enough that not every part has to be focused on bitty & jack and anyway jack was still there even if he wasn't *there*  
> happy nye/new year, everyone!  
> come yell with me on my tumblr my url is @birlcholtz


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE LONG-AWAITED HOCKEY GAME!!

It’s pretty clean, as far as hockey games go. Nobody’s hesitant with checks, and there are a few penalties for high sticking, but nobody has to be helped off the ice, and nobody drops their gloves either. The Falconers and the Bruins are keeping the animosity down low, which Bitty is grateful for. His heart is in his throat every time a Bruin even comes close to Jack, who gets plenty of ice time; he’s not sure he could handle watching a rougher game.

By the end of the first period, they’re tied 1-1, and Bitty is grateful for the opportunity to breathe freely. He’s fairly sure he was hyperventilating at some point in the middle. 

“You okay there, Bitty?” Nursey asks, looking as unruffled as ever. Then again, he’s not nearly as emotionally invested.

“Intense game,” Bitty says by way of explanation.

Dex snorts. “No, it’s not.” And Dex has a point. But Bitty will be damned if he ruins the Big Dramatic Reveal, so he’s stuck with his lie at this point.

Then he hears the sound of a Ziploc bag opening.

“Poorly chosen lie, one dollar in the Sin Bin,” Chowder says imperiously.

“You’ve got to just be making these up by this point,” Bitty grumbles as he tosses in a dollar bill.

“You’ll get the money back anyway, next time you need to bake a pie.”

Besides that, none of them call him out for lying.

 

Nobody scores in the second period, and it looks like nobody’s going to in the third. The two teams spend more time vying for control of the puck than they do shooting on goal, and with four minutes left in the game and no desire to go into overtime, the Falconers pull Snow in favor of an extra offensive player. For three long minutes, it doesn’t seem to have any effect, except more of the fighting over the puck happens on the Bruins’ side of the rink.

_ Ten. _

_ Nine. _

_ Eight. _

_ Seven. _

_ Six. _

An airhorn blares and the (considerably fewer than the Bruins’) Falconers’ fans react as one— one of the Falconers, Bitty didn’t even see who it was, they’d scored so fast, has scored with five seconds left in the game. The Falconers are up by one point.

“Holy  _ shit,” _ Chowder murmurs. “Did you  _ see _ that?”

The ref drops the puck, and the Falconers play keep-away for five seconds, and then  _ they’ve won the game. _

All the Falconers seem to mob Jack, judging by how quickly he disappears under a pile of blue-and-white jerseys. The ones on the bench pile onto the ice to join the Falconers mosh pit, and they’re close enough to the ice that Bitty can hear them congratulating Jack.

“Was he the one who scored?” Bitty asks— maybe one of the frogs saw it happen.

“Yeah,” Chowder says, still in that awed tone. “Bounced right off Khudobin’s glove and into the net. It was beautiful.”

“That’s going to be on all the NHL highlights reels,” Dex agrees.

Slowly, people file out of the stands, leaving empty seats upon empty seats. When they’re mostly empty, an usher approaches. “Eric Bittle?”

“Yes,” Bitty says, double-checking that he has the pies.

“Follow me.”

 

Even though the stands are practically empty by now, the tables where they’re selling merchandise have long lines, and Bitty wonders how many of those people will still be there by the time they leave the Falcs’ locker room.

He also wonders if Dex remembered to pack paper plates and something to cut the pie with. Some napkins would’ve been good too, come to think of it.

“Bitty, you’re worrying,” Nursey comments.

“Did we bring plates?”

“Yes,” Dex says. “And a knife and a pie server and plastic cutlery and paper napkins.”

“Okay. Good.”

They continue walking.

“Bitty, you’re worrying.”

“I know.”

“Honestly, I’m nervous too!” Chowder chimes in. “I mean, how many people meet an entire NHL team? Bitty, just put one foot in front of the other and don’t fuck up.”

“Life advice from Chris Chow.” Nursey promptly trips over his shoelace and almost faceplants in the quiet hallway. “Whoops.”

“Failed step one,” Dex says, and Nursey swats him. The usher graciously ignores all of this and keeps leading them down the hall. They stop in front of a fairly ordinary-looking door, ordinary except for the fact that it says  _ Guest Locker Room Facilities _ on it and is currently being propped open by a skate guard in the Falconers’ colors. Bitty can hear voices inside, all talking over each other in several different languages— he can differentiate English (with a variety of accents), French, and Russian, but what with the racket, there could be more that he can’t distinguish from the rest.

The usher raps on the door, and when someone with a thick Russian accent shouts “Come in!” she opens the door and holds it, standing aside so that Bitty, Chowder, Nursey, and Dex can walk in.

Jack is chatting with another Falconer, whose name Bitty doesn’t know but he looks young enough to be a rookie— their voices had been the French that Bitty was hearing. But when Jack looks over at the open door and who’s just walked in, he makes his excuses to the rookie and practically speedwalks over to them. “Hey, Bitty!”

“Jack! That was an awesome goal!”

“Thanks,” he says. “It went by so quickly I didn’t even realize I’d scored until Tater crashed into me shouting about it.”

“I’m Tater,” Alexei Mashkov says— from the other side of the locker room, but his voice carries just fine. 

“Oh, let me introduce you to my friends,” Bitty remembers. “This is Chowder, Nursey, and Dex. They’re all my teammates. Frogs, this is Jack.”

There’s complete silence.

Bitty turns to look at them. Chowder has stars in his eyes, Dex is catatonic, and Nursey’s jaw has dropped. Chowder is the first one to snap out of it.

“Hi!” he says, shaking Jack’s hand. “I’m Chris Chow, but like Bitty said my team calls me Chowder, I’m the goalie for Samwell, that was a ‘ _ swawesome _ goal— and the assist in the first period was  _ incredible, _ it was  _ so cool _ how it just went  _ between _ Zdeno Chara’s skates, did you know it was going to work or were you just hoping? And—”

Jack looks mildly alarmed the longer Chowder keeps going without taking a breath, until he finally ends with “but I guess it must be all in a day’s work, right?”

“Guess so,” Jack says faintly. “You said you’re a goalie?” When Chowder nods, Jack turns around and grabs Aiden Snow out of the crowd of Falconers that have amassed into a group behind him. “This is Snowy.”

Chowder, if possible, gets even  _ more _ starry-eyed and busily starts asking Snowy questions, picking apart both of their respective styles and offering anecdotes about particularly difficult shots on goal that he’s seen. Snowy doesn’t seem fazed by this style of conversation and manages to hold his own instead of effectively getting hit by a truck. While Chowder has already moved on from the initial shock of meeting Jack Zimmermann, Dex and Nursey are still processing it.

“Bitty,  _ why _ didn’t you tell us you knew Jack Zimmermann?” Dex demands. 

“Agreed,” Nursey says. “You caught us totally unprepared.”

“I told you he worked in the Falconers organization.”

“When you said that, I was picturing a merchandise designer or, knowing you, the person who manages their Twitter account, not the  _ fucking captain.” _

Jack holds back a laugh as Dex’s face gradually turns red. “You kept it a secret, eh, Bitty?”

“The opportunity was just too good,” Bitty replies. “Oh! Before I forget, we brought y’all some pie!”

“Pie?” an unidentified Falconer asks. “Zimmboni’s friend brought pie?”

“It’s apple pie with maple sugar in the filling  _ and _ the crust,” Bitty explains, putting the pies on a convenient bench and getting out the plates and cutlery. “Sorry, it slipped my mind to make a couple kinds, but we  _ did _ bring three pies so everyone can have some.”

“I like this one,” Mashkov— Tater— says, coming up behind Jack and ruffling his hair. “Keep him, Zimmboni.”

“That’s on you all not scaring him off,” Jack says, partly to Tater but also addressing it to the rest of the Falconers. 

“There’s probably very little y’all can do that I haven’t seen with my team before,” Bitty offfers. “So don’t restrain yourselves on my account. Particularly not when it comes to the pie, I certainly don’t need leftovers.”

That’s all the encouragement a large number of them need to approach the bench and start cutting slices of pie for themselves. Jack goes to get a piece as well, and while he’s thus preoccupied, Nursey turns to Bitty and says, “He’s  _ cute.” _

“Shush.” Bitty’s trying to listen to see what the Falconers think of the pie. Judging by the absolute silence from those who have already started eating it, it’s good— people are only  _ that _ quiet when their mouths are too full of food to do anything else without risking spitting the food out. Clearly, someone’s taught the Falconers table manners, since they all chew with their mouths shut as well. Overall, a more dignified experience than the first time he brought pie to the Haus.

“I can  _ almost _ forgive you for not telling us,” Nursey continues. “Seeing as I probably would’ve done the same thing in your situation. But at the same time, springing it on us like that was  _ not chill.  _ Cool, but not chill.”

“In the future, I’d like to know beforehand if you plan to introduce us to any NHL players,” Dex agrees.

Chowder is nowhere to be seen, but Bitty can hear him chattering away with Snowy. The three of them stand there in silence for a moment, but then Tater and Jack reappear from the crowd, now with pie, and then Tater asks Nursey and Dex how NCAA hockey works and they get drawn into a conversation and now it’s just Bitty and Jack.

“Hi,” Bitty says, smiling up at him.

Jack smiles back. “Hi yourself.”

“The rest of my team is going to be jealous that they didn’t get back in time to be invited. They’re all flying in tomorrow.”

“You should have heard Georgia when I asked her to set aside tickets.  _ ‘When did you make friends outside of hockey, Zimmermann? Or did you just go find a peewee team and offer them tickets again?’ _ She was honestly surprised that I could actually hold a conversation with anyone who didn’t play in the NHL.”

Bitty frowns in mock thought. “Seems to me you did spend a lot of time reading, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“I’m a perfectly good conversationalist.”

“Now who was it who told me that the last time the media got a good interview from him was when he made captain?”

“Oh, stop.”

 

The three pies vanish one after the other, and nothing makes Bitty happier than empty pie tins.

Well.  _ Almost _ nothing.

The Falconers enthusiastically welcome Bitty and his friends, and all of them seem to be assuming that Jack has invited him because they’re involved. So, because Bitty likes knowing what is going on as much as the next person, he asks Jack about it when they’ve got a moment semi-alone.

“Your team all seem really supportive of you,” Bitty says.

“Yeah, I’ve been out to them since the end of last season and they’ve all been really great about it,” Jack says, looking around the room. “I mean, I didn’t  _ tell _ them that we were, you know, involved, if that’s what you’re talking about, I didn’t want to assume that you were interested—”

“Jack.”

Jack stops his word explosion and looks at Bitty, but carefully, trying to see if he’s crossed a boundary.

“I would  _ love _ to be, as you said, involved with you.”

Bitty has never seen a smile this bright on Jack’s face, and resolves to try to get him to smile like that as often as possible.

“What’s this?” Tater practically bellows, nearly skidding to a stop next to them with the frogs and Snowy hot on his heels. “Zimmboni and his friend are more than friends!” He turns to face the rest of the room and announces, “Pay up!”

Bitty grins at Jack. “Very supportive.”

“You should stick around,” Snowy says. “Those pies were fucking delicious. And I guess you can stay because of Jack too.”

“Well, I sure don’t have a problem with that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. I finally wrote it lmao  
> honestly i'm not sure where i'm going to go with this? i've been leading up to the game for so long that i don't really know what to do now. i'll try to keep it going if y'all want but i might just post an epilogue and mark it as finished.  
> something else: i may make this a series and post some other ficlets that are in the same universe? that way i can finish this story arc and still add to the story, since i don't really want to make this a huge fic (i'm SUPER bad at keeping up with writing for long periods of time). the ficlets probably won't all be zimbits-centric since no matter how hard i try i can't stop writing about the frogs, but i think that would make the most sense as far as continuing the story. thoughts?  
> (feel free to come talk to me about it on my tumblr @birlcholtz)


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years later.

“A toast!” Tater declares, holding up his beer. It’s difficult to move much with this many of them stuffed into one booth— Bitty, Jack, Tater, Snowy, Marty, Chowder, and Lardo. Dex is sick so he and Nursey aren’t coming, and Shitty’s held up at his law practice, but they’ve still got plenty of people. Even though Marty’s been retired for years, he jumps right back into his conversations with his old teammates like he just left the Falcs yesterday.

“To Zimmboni!” Tater continues.

“Who finally got his head out of his ass,” Snowy says before Tater can figure out what he’s going to say next. “Took you long enough.”

Jack, arm wrapped around Bitty’s shoulder, hardly even reacts to the chirping, just laughing a little and gesturing for Tater to keep going, but Lardo jumps in instead.

“Who, after a long, long time of all of us wondering if it was ever going to happen,  _ finally _ proposed—”

“But I lost the bet because he didn’t propose on the ice,” Chowder adds, sounding put out.

“Regardless,” Lardo continues determinedly, “even though I haven’t known you for that long, I know how happy you and Bitty make each other, and even though I’m really happy for you, this is still worth, like,  _ two hundred bucks _ in the Sin Bin.” Chowder nods enthusiastically, and Bitty wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out the Portable Sin Bin and insisted that they pay up then and there. Never mind that all of them have graduated.

“It’s more for the Falconers,” Marty tells her. “Let’s say two fifty? I got fined two fifty when I proposed to my wife, so it’s only fair. Public proposals are always worth more than a couple hundred bucks.”

Jack sighs. “How about I just buy another round of drinks and we’ll call it even?”

“Hm,” Tater says. “Yes, acceptable.”

“That’s a lot less than two fifty,” Bitty whispers to Jack, hopefully quietly enough that Lardo doesn’t catch it.

“I’ll pay the two fifty if I have to,” Jack whispers back. “I’ll pay whatever they fine me for being engaged to you. It’ll be worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAND THAT'S THE END!! Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and being so supportive :))) I WILL be writing ficlets, and several people have already offered ideas, so if you have an idea for a ficlet set in this universe, just let me know! either in the comments, or message me on my tumblr (@birlcholtz) (if you send it to me on tumblr include your ao3 username if you have one so i can gift that ficlet to you!)  
> love y'all <3 this has truly been amazing  
> and also, TOMORROW i will be adding the first ficlet to this series, but idk how consistently i'm going to be writing more once school starts so please be patient! trying to write a lot today so i have stuff to fall back on, but that'll have to run out sooner or later. so what i'm saying is don't expect daily updates for the next 3 weeks? thanks, y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> yeeee this is the first time i've written zimbits! honestly though this practically wrote itself it was amazing, thank you to fabbittle for providing such a great idea!  
> please comment & let me know what you thought!


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